


party tattoos

by georgewashingmachine



Category: Doddleoddle - Fandom
Genre: Based on the song Party Tattoos, F/F, Fluff, House Party, Oneshot, Party, Romantic Fluff, sequel??? kind of???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgewashingmachine/pseuds/georgewashingmachine
Summary: In which Dodie Clark and Tessa Violet recall the events of a party the morning after.





	party tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is like??? kind of a sequel to another fic i wrote?? so uhhhhh if you want me to post that then like tell me in the comments? i never posted it because its super cringe worthy to me sooooooooooo
> 
> anyway enjoy this

Dodie woke up to a blank ceiling, a window that brought in the late morning sunlight, and tangled bedsheets. All of which did not belong to her. The girl she was lying next to, however, was familiar.  
“Tessa?”  
The girl groaned lightly, stirring softly in her sleep, sitting up slowly. She looked around, taking in the alien surroundings.  
“What…?” she murmured, her voice slurred with sleep. “What happened last night?”  
Dodie starts to reply, but then bits and pieces of information of the previous night came back to her suddenly. 

Glances up at clocks—she couldn’t recall the time—obviously in the early stages of the party.   
Skin touching skin as the girls—she assumed what she was remembering was of her and Tessa—kept close to each other.   
Exchanged words, drowned out by the soft sounds of the beginnings of a party. “I don’t know,” she heard Tessa saying, unable to recall anything else of the conversation.  
Bottles reaching reckless hands, everyone knowing they would deal with everything the party left behind once morning came.

And then Dodie was back in the present. The still, strange, quiet present.   
Tessa was the first to break the silence. “Dodie? You okay? You spaced out for a second.”  
“I have an idea,” Dodie responds, looking around. Dodie must have been really lucky, because sure enough a ukulele sat on the other side of the room. “Convenient.” She brings the instrument back to Tessa and starts to sing.

“Take a look at the clock  
Only so long to go  
Scrubbing smooth young skin  
Saying I don't know  
Grab a bag, grab a bottle but leave the what it;  
You'll see it in the morning after your tricks.”

Images of the party come back to Dodie as she sang.  
People—some she recognized—enjoying themselves, their cares and worries slipping further and further away as they grew more and more intoxicated as the night went on.  
Tessa dragging Dodie to the bar where Tessa suggested drinks for the two. She remembers saying yes to her suggestions, though she knew she would regret her decision in the morning.

“All you will need for a rocking good time  
Is a bunch of people who don't give a damn  
There's a yes, in your head, gotta find where it's at!  
You'll lose it in the morning but ignore that.”

In the present, Tessa was captivated by Dodie’s singing. The loving look reminded Dodie of the night they had gotten together.   
Dodie stopped strumming for a moment, looking over both herself and her girlfriend. Bruises covered both of their bodies, but it wasn’t hard to connect the dots and figure out where they had come from.  
“Bruises.” Tessa mutters, sounding a little miserable.  
“I like to think of them more like party tattoos.” Dodie says in attempt to cheer her girlfriend up. Tessa lifts her head at that. Her cheek had a black mark on it, presumably from where Dodie had kissed her during the night since she had matching smudged lipstick on her lips.

“We're not bruised  
They're just, party tattoos  
And that colourful mess  
Is just colourful regret  
Black lipstick will never be a sin  
We'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin, regret it when we're old with wrinkled up…”

Memories of the party pop back into Dodie’s head. It was later – 3 AM according the clock – and Tessa and Dodie were up on the roof of whoever’s house this was, staring up at the stars and giggling from the kind of stupid jokes that were only funny if you were drunk. There was a gust of cold wind, and neither girl had any kind of coat or cardigan or anything to keep warm with, so they shifted closer together and held each other close for warmth.

“My mummy said to always wear a coat  
But it's warm and it's heavy and we're trying to float  
Don't forget, she'll be right when it's 3am,  
So shiver, but shiver with a friend.

We're not bruised  
They're just party tattoos  
And that colourful mess  
Is just colourful regret  
Black lipstick will never be a sin  
We'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin  
Yes we'll regret it when we're old with wrinkled up skin.

Write a postcard to you at eighty four   
Tell me you'd never dream of living behind a door   
Life was fun, full of love, full of hopeful smiles   
Bet you wish you were here, but I'll see you in a while.”

Tessa laughs at the lyrics once Dodie is done singing.  
“What’s so funny?” Dodie asks, putting down the ukulele.  
“You wouldn’t write a postcard to me at eighty four.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I’ll be with you when you’re eighty four.” Tessa answers with a smile. Dodie can’t help but blush at her words. Tessa wraps her hands around the blushing girl.  
“Let’s go home, hm?” She says, her hands moving up to tangle themselves in Dodie’s hair. She nods in reply, though in reality she never wanted to leave this moment.


End file.
